Ducks
by ALilyPea
Summary: Shannon is second guessing what he does in his life, and whether or not he's doing enough. SLASH


Title: Ducks  
Author: Ashley aka Kwirk aka rabidtaz  
Author's Journal: rabidtaz on lj  
Pairing(s): John/Shannon  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: There is talk of children having diseases as well as death and depression in this fic but no one dies I promise.  
Author's Note: This is inspired by the pic of John and Shannon on the November fic contest page on Levin Colter's website, I didn't know the context so I made up my own inspired by a documentary I saw on the Make a Wish Foundation.

* * *

Shannon Moore was completely and utterly bone tired, although he'd been travelling on the road as a wrestler for years he still wasn't used to going from doing matches to doing promotional or charity events in the blink of an eye. He didn't think it was something he would ever get used to, especially the charity events. It wasn't that he didn't want to do them of course; he loved the thought of being able to help people while doing something he loved so much. But he would never get used to seeing young people, people younger than him and children who were so sick looking and wan. It broke his heart every time he had to do it, because he knew that maybe if he came back the next year several of them wouldn't be there, some of them would have succumbed to the diseases they never should've had in the first place. That thought sickened him, made him feel so angry and helpless that it twisted up his inside's and brought tears of frustration to his eyes. Sure he could make them smile by doing his job, but was he really doing anything of importance? He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the brick wall as he waited for his taxi to come pick him up, angry that he hadn't thought to rent a car.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, massaging slightly before falling off. "Hey little man, you doing alright?" John Cena's voice was rough, his own face looking haggard and worn from exhaustion. He was holding a duffle bag filled with gifts given to both of them in one hand and massaging his own neck with the other slightly, even as he studied Shannon from top to bottom.

Managing to muster a smile Shannon nodded, "Yeah I'm alright. I'm just real tired John, and sick of having to wait for this damn taxi to show up." He responded softly, looking down at his worn Chuck Taylor's, scuffing one toe on the ground slightly as he did so.

"I'll give you a ride back to the hotel man, we can unwind together, go out for lunch or something," John told him, hefting the duffle bag back onto his shoulders he rummaged in his jeans for a moment before pulling out the keys triumphantly. "Let's get outta here little man; you look like you could use a drink." He murmured.

Shannon looked relieved and reached up, pulled the bag from John's shoulder, putting it on his own. "Thanks, I would appreciate a drink for sure." He responded softly, following John down the hallway he remained quiet on their walk, unusual for the small gentle Carolinian who usually talked anyone's ear off when they were within four feet of him. When they got to the garage he looked up, seeming almost shocked, as though he hadn't even been aware that he'd been moving in the first place.

John studied Shannon, his brow furrowed in worry as he looked him over. Granted, the two of them weren't the best of friends, but they had hung out with each other before, and worked together. He had a lot of respect for the Cruiserweight who he'd felt hadn't had enough of a chance to be something great, but this attitude, so quiet and tired looking just wasn't like Shannon. He'd heard in the past the smaller man had gone days without sleep and still managed to bounce around creating havoc with Jeff Hardy. John definitely wasn't going to let this behaviour go unmentioned about, something was going on and he wanted to know what it was. He unlocked the car doors and slid into the driver's seat, trying to figure out how he would bring it up to Shannon.

Opening his door Shannon slipped into the passenger seat, tossing the duffle in the back he settled down, staring out the window with sightless eyes. He couldn't believe his train of thought; here he was questioning his entire world, his existence. Was what he did in life or in his job enough? Should he be doing more charity work? Could he have become something more in life? It was depressing him he knew, not having felt like this since way back when he'd been in WCW trying to come up, and now he seemed to be returning to that dark place. It wasn't like he was being given much of a push, or really anything as far as the business was concerned.

Sighing John studied Shannon and was startled, the younger man looked like someone close to him had died. It was like there was a veil of sadness hanging over him, and John could practically feel it sinking into his own bones. Whatever was wrong with Shannon must be serious, and he didn't know how to talk to him about it. It looked like he was going to have to talk to one of Shannon's closer friends; since none of them were around he'd have to give them a call as soon as he got back to the hotel. Who could he call? Matt Hardy, no those two hadn't seemed to have spoken much after Shannon had broken off from being an MFer and there seemed to be more to that story then he knew about. It looked like he would have to call another member of the Carolina crew, Jeff Hardy, he could only hope that he could find the rainbow haired Hardy's phone number somewhere.

The drive back to the hotel was spent in complete and utter silence. John felt like he was being stifled by it, as though it was creeping into his lungs and stealing the very air he breathed and expelled from him. He couldn't bring himself to say a word, scared that he would end up verbally unloading on Shannon his every worry and concern for the cruiserweight, and that would possibly be the most embarrassing thing to happen to him in a long time. Meanwhile Shannon was still staring blankly out the window, his mind moving a mile a minute and looking like someone who'd been through some horrible ideal.

John breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled into the underground parking garage, just when he felt he couldn't spend another second in silence. He reached over slowly and touched Shannon's shoulder gently, drawing back quickly when the younger man jumped like he'd been shot. "Chill out Shan, I just wanted to let you know we're back at the hotel." He told him, his voice softer than normal.

Shannon nodded slowly, drawing his eyes away from John's. There was too much honest there, too much emotion and it was sharp like a knife sliding into his skin. "Okay," His voice was hoarse and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to act like there was nothing wrong even though he could see that John knew something was off. The other man had always been too intuitive for his own good, although that was one of the things that made him so easy to work with, because he knew how to use that intuition to work a match.

Biting his bottom lip momentarily John sighed again, "How about we both go get showers and change, we can meet in the lobby in half an hour and go grab a drink alright," He ducked his head, peeking under the bill of Shannon's hat to look into his eyes, his own showing that there would be no arguments about their plans. He simply wasn't going to let Shannon get away with holing himself up in his room and avoiding him for the rest of the tour and as soon as he got back to his room he was finding Jeff's number and having a little chat with him.

"Yeah," Shannon muttered, looking away he opened his door and got out swiftly, ducking his head back into the doorway. "Are you taking the gifts for now or should I?" He asked, studiously not looking at John but rather the duffle in question. He knew it was cowardly but he couldn't help himself, not wanting to deal with the thoughts in his head for fear he would end up doing nothing but unloading them on John.

John smiled briefly at him, "I can take them for now." He turned off the ignition and got out of the car, shutting his door he looked at Shannon over the top of the car. "I'll see you in a half hour." He clapped Shannon on the shoulder before heading into the lobby and into the elevator to his floor, regretting kind of blowing Shannon off but he needed to get up to his room and find some phone numbers to call.

Shannon watched John go and leaned against the side of the car, covering his face with one hand he took deep calming breaths then tugged a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one and inhaling deeply. He knew he should quit, knew it was bad for him and that most of his friends hated it but he couldn't manage, sometimes it was the only thing that allowed him to de-stress in high tension situations.

-----

Opening the door to his room John put the duffle bag down on the floor before heading towards his suitcase; he searched through it and managed to find the WWE Employee and Roster directory. He quickly flipped through it, finding Jeff Hardy's number he fumbled with his cell phone, dialling quickly. "Hello, Jeff?" He sat down on the edge of his bed.

He'd never heard Jeff Hardy sound so confused in his life, "John? Is everything okay?" The Carolinian spoke slowly, as though he felt that some kind of practical joke was being played on him or something.

"I'm doing fine man, but I need to talk to you about Shannon," John responded swiftly, feeling that being direct and to the point would work best with this situation; he knew how much the younger Hardy cared for his best and oldest friend.

"Shannon? Did something happen? Is he okay?" Jeff asked quickly, rapid fire questions about Shannon's safety, his health floating through the line into John's ears until the Champ felt like he was being interrogated, tried and executed all at once.

John let out a soft growl of frustration, "Would you shut up for just one moment Jeff?" He snapped over the line. "I called you because I need to talk to you about him. Have you talked to him lately?"

Jeff seemed to settle down somewhat after that, "I talked to him last night. He was really excited about doing the charity event you two had today. Why? Did something happen to him?"

"Not that I saw, after the event I found him in the hallway and it looked like someone had killed his puppy or something. Or killed you now that I think about it. I'm sure you know the look I'm talking about," John responded, fiddling with a string hanging off the bed spread. "I was just worried about him is all; I wanted to know if you knew if there was anything I could do to help him feel better."

"Wow John…that's almost…sweet of you," Jeff sounded surprised, causing John to scowl. He could be nice and sweet couldn't he? "It sounds like Shannon is going through one of his dark days. We all have them John, I'm sure even you." Wow Hardy didn't seem to be pulling any punches today did he? Was he always this snarky or was it just to John? "All you need to do is force it out of him, whatever is wrong with him that is. He'll probably get pissed off at first but in the end he'll thank you for it."

"Dark days?" John sighed, wondering if he would be getting much of an answer from Jeff or not. "What are his dark days?"

Jeff seemed to be chewing something before he spoke, causing John to roll his eyes. "He used to get them a lot in WCW because he felt he wasn't being utilized right, and that he would never make it to the WWE which had been his dream for a long time. Let's face it, it's not like Eric Bishoff was good at promoting happiness. It was pretty bad, to the point where some of the older guys who were trying to look after him were scared he was gonna end up killing himself."

"Are you serious?" John was shocked. Shannon always seemed like a bright young man, always willing to do anything to make people happy and he was a genuinely good guy. But maybe that took its toll after a little while, should he really be concerned about Shannon trying to commit suicide? Did he have to keep an extra careful eye on him?

"No John, I made it all up as a joke," Jeff snapped back, then sighed. "Sorry, I don't mean to snap. I just feel kind of helpless being so far away and not being able to help him out of this."

John smiled slightly, so the Hardy boy didn't really hate him, he was just worried about his best friend. That was something he could understand entirely. "Don't worry Jeff, I've got it under control, I'll take care of him."

Jeff laughed softly. "I'm sure you can," He sounded amused. "Everyone knows how you feel about him, now I gotta go because my Punkin will be here in a minute." He hung up the phone leaving John dumbfounded.

What did Jeff mean by that? Everyone knew how he felt? He wasn't aware he felt anything about Shannon, but come to think about it, anytime he saw Shannon was the brightest part of the day. Slumping back on his bed John groaned, did he actually have feelings for the cruiserweight? It did make sense. And since when was Jeff Hardy with CM Punk. Why did working in the WWE come with so much backstage drama? Pulling himself out of it he got up and went into the bathroom, getting ready to shower.

-----

Shannon waited in the lobby, slumped in an overstuffed chair he hummed softly to himself. He felt a little better after taking a nice hot shower and getting an amusing albeit odd phone call from his best friend who told him he better start sounding happier or Jeff was going to make him, then the rainbow haired Hardy had gotten distracted seemingly by someone's yummy tummy. He would never understand the older man that was for sure. He would also never understand John Cena who Jeff had seemed really interested about talking to him about, since when had Jeff actually given a thought to the "marine."

The elevator dinged and John Cena walked out, immediately heading toward Shannon who he noticed seemed to be looking a little bit better but still looked worn around the edges. "Alright let's get going little man," He told him, tapping his foot.

"What bar are we going to?" Shannon asked as he got up out of the chair, looking up at John he shifted from foot to foot, still not feeling entirely comfortable around the other man.

John shook his head, gesturing for Shannon to follow him. "I've decided we're not going to a bar anymore, instead we're going to go for a little walk."

Shannon looked incredulous as he donned his baseball cap, glad that he at least wouldn't be recognizable to most people, unless they were true fans of his. John however had a tendency to get mobbed where ever he went for some reason. "Are you serious? Do you have an escape plan just in case?" He asked, snorting.

Tugging the hoody he was holding over his head John put his baseball cap on as well then pulled the hood up. "I don't plan on being noticed at all, and you won't either."

"Oh, so you won't be noticed as John Cena, but you will be noticed as looking like some kind of gang member," Shannon couldn't help but laugh slightly despite his bad mood. "That will be much more entertaining than seeing you run away from a bunch of fan girls by far."

John led him down the road to a rather secluded park and shoved him down on the bench, sitting down next to him he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag filled with bread. "Here feed the ducks," He told Shannon, tossing some bread of his own into the pond, watching the ducks. "And also, tell me what's wrong? And I've already talked to Jeff so you can be pissed off all you want but I'm not letting you go back to the hotel without telling me what's going on and why you look so sad."

Instead of getting angry Shannon's face actually lit up as he took the bread bag from John, his eyes filled with a light John hadn't seen ever. "Was he the one who told you I love to go to parks and do this?" He asked, his voice extra soft as he tried to get some of the ducks to come closer to their side of the pond to get some of the bread.

Looking slightly embarrassed John rubbed the back of his neck and coughed softly, "Actually he didn't tell me that, it's just something I like to do when I need to relax. I didn't know you liked doing it too."

Shannon smiled, but then his eyes became downcast and he looked away. "Do you think I do enough for the world?" He asked suddenly.

John looked confused but answered him anyway, "Is that what's wrong? What do you mean?"

"Today…when we saw those kids. I realized that if we come back here next year, some of them might not be here. Some of them might have died. And all they wanted, as one of their last wishes was to meet the two of us, to see us wrestle. But is that really enough? Could I be doing something more? They are so brave, even in the face of death and here I am, running around the squared circle, looking like a fucking idiot some of the time. It's not like I even get that much attention, what if I could have another job or something?" Shannon sounded so frustrated and angry with himself that all John wanted to do was pull the younger man into his arms.

John sat back, forgetting about the ducks for the moment. "You think you could've become a doctor or something?" He asked, sounding surprised. "I'm sorry Shannon, and I hate to tell you this but you are wrong."

Shannon jerked his head upward, looking into John's eyes his eyes burning with hurt.

"I don't mean that you're not smart or something. I meant that when you get in that ring it excites me, you were born to wrestle and the way you move in that ring is so natural that it makes me happy. Those kids wanted to see you in the ring, and in person because on their worst day maybe they turn on the television and one of us has the match, and whether we win or lose the excitement of that match makes them feel good, makes them feel like they could be stronger and they could put up a good fight. What we do is important because it gives people happy, that's why I do one of these charity events a month, it gives the parents a break and for one day those kids could feel like they're normal or even that they're special," John responded, speaking with such passion and conviction that Shannon stared at him wide eyed.

"You really think that's it? You get excited when I'm in the ring?" Shannon sounded like he was in complete and utter awe of John in that moment.

John smiled at him, "I know it's true. I've talked to some of the parents, in fact one of them today told me she hadn't seen little Cameron look so happy as he did when you hoisted him up on your shoulder and carried him around the ring like he was a winner. She wanted to tell you herself but she couldn't find you, Cameron told his mom that he had to get better, that he had to beat his leukemia because one day he was going to be a wrestler and he would get to be your tag team partner." He gently lifted Shannon's chin. "Do you still wanna quit being a wrestler and bringing that kind of joy to people who need it?"

Shannon could feel tears in his eyes, and he shook his head. "No…I want Cameron to get better and be my tag partner too." He sniffed and swiped at his eyes anxiously, not wanting to cry in front of John. "How do you do that every month though? I feel like I'm on some kind of emotional roller coaster today, it's ridiculous."

Shaking his head John grinned, "It's not ridiculous at all, and if you hadn't been there today I probably would've done the same thing I always do." He responded, rolling his shoulders in a shrug.

"What's that?" Shannon asked, genuinely interested.

"Gone back to my room, taken a long hot shower and had a really good cry," John admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing. "None of us are immune to seeing sick children Shannon, and the fact that you wanted to cry is compassion. It's one of the things I lo-like about you."

Shannon's eyes widened, "That's what Jeff said. He said that you had feelings for me, and you were worried."

"Yeah well, Jeff has a big fucking mouth," John responded, growling in frustration. "I'm sorry."

"No it's really okay," Shannon pushed his legs apart and crawled into his lap, not caring if he was crushing him or not. "You're a very nice man, a very good person John. I'm glad we had this little talk."

It was John's turn to be wide eyed, swallowing heavily he managed a thick sounding laugh. "Shannon what are you doing?" He asked, his voice rising possibly one octave or two, not that he would admit it.

"Well I get excited when you wrestle too," Shannon chuckled, wrapping his arms around John's shoulders.

John smiled, dropping a kiss on Shannon's lips before he could stop himself. "I get excited when I can feel the blood rushing to my lower half, with a hot blond to hang onto."

"John!" Shannon looked offended but laughed regardless as he crawled off of John's lap.

Standing up John reeled Shannon in and kissed him again, "What do you say we go back to the hotel?" He asked, wrapping an arm around his waist as he led him along.

"Are we going to practice wrestling moves?" Shannon asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously and John felt relieved. That was a familiar look and one he knew how to deal with.

"Absolutely…" John responded as they walked down the sidewalk leaving the ducks behind.


End file.
